


Sparrow's Notes

by classiqueExzent



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 10:43:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10242992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classiqueExzent/pseuds/classiqueExzent
Summary: He knew this way of going. He knew this charisma. He knew this man.   ~ ° ~   It's been more than four years since he had one of those dreadful dreams, but today he sees this bloodbath of yore again. But this time he gets a new chance to make it better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the translation of my German story "Sparrow's Notes".
> 
> Correction: C. Hanson

“We will never find out everything. Neither the good things nor the bad. Not even the small compliments we get behind our back.”

~ ° ~

The brass lied cool on his skin. At moments like this when he consciously felt the metal, sensed the light, familiar weight around his neck, he, for a moment, felt relocated to home, as if he stood directly in front of the small wooden chest that this worthless piece of metal opened. The key itself might not have meant a lot, but the content of the casket had much more worth.  
He closed his eyes for a few seconds and breathed deeply. Now he was not allowed to think about it. He swallowed a heavy lump. Today was the third semester of his law studies. His best friend Armin had proved right from the beginning – it truly was a puzzle of a work. Nevertheless he didn't regret taking this path even a bit. Eventually he had a clear aim in mind.

The flimsy fair head beside him jabbered a mile a minute from essays and who knows what else. A hand snapped before his face. “What's the matter?”  
“We'll get new prof if you'd listen to me”, Armin grumbled. “He might be called Mister Ackermann. Jean mentioned it yesterday.”  
He shrugged it off indifferently. Yet somewhere inside a bell tolled, but only he was not able to point out why. The quiet premonition stole over him. He knew the name. No, he felt certain of this name. Yet a picture absolutely refused to show up. He said goodbye to Armin and entered the auditorium with a bunch of other students. He was late; like always, because punctuality didn't seem to exist in his vocabulary. He was a chronic over-sleeper. With his materials on the desk he put on the navy blue glasses and stroked away stubborn strand off the eyes. Yawning, he stared at a spot beside the blackboard and was abruptly ripped out of his daydreams as the door clicked shut and a quiet short man with black hair and a featherweight walk entered the room. Instantly, silence dominated. The aura which seemed to surround this man was stunning yet frightening at the same time. A shudder ran down his back.  
He knew this way of going. He knew this charisma. He knew this man.

~ ° ~

Solely the clicking of the closing door revealed him, otherwise he went like feathered – even in boots. The delicate porcelain clattered as he placed the cup back on the petite saucer. Like that he sat in his leathern armchair, drank black tea and read, if he was so minded, a book. He didn't notice his secret observer who stood behind the nearly opaque rows of shelves, the heart in his mouth. Carefully he peeked through scuffed spines of two tomes on his superior. Well, actually the young fellow wasn't even intentionally in such a predicament. He was just sorting the borrowed – more temporary snitched – volumes of special encyclopedia as Levi entered the room. How he cursed him for this silent walk. Like a cat he would sneak. You never heard him coming. For flight it was rather late. How should he explain what he had to do in private rooms of high ranks. And then with stolen goods in the hands. Now he just hoped his superior won't notice him, because getting caught in flagrante delicto, especially in such a double offence, means exclusion from service which he only began a few weeks ago and wouldn't give up not by a stretch of imagination because of such banalities. So, what to do? Feverishly he considered how he shall get of here, there the window attracted his attention. But it was located, viewed from outside, in about ten meters altitude and leads directly to the courtyard, and this would struck even more as simply strolling out like nothing happened. He realized way too late that one of the book was not standing in its place correctly and threatened to fall out, and, lost in thought, he brushed the shelf, it fell rumbling to the ground. Frightened he widened the eyes and staggered backwards, whereby he nearly hit a shelf again. Porcelain chinked and leather creaked. Silence followed. All of a sudden he stood beside him in the recess and took the only means of escape. He swallowed hard and mentally steeled himself for what was coming.  
“Jäger?”  
A flood of ice cold goose bumps rolled over his limbs. “Y-yes, Corporal?”  
“Explain, what's your business here in my private rooms?”  
“I er …” He gradually got weak-kneed and his hands started sweating. He fumbled nervously at the fringe of his shirt. “I wanted to get books.”  
“In for you strictly forbidden chambers?” He shifted his weight on his forefeet and crossed his arms. Suspiciously he eyed the intruder.  
“I-i am awfully sorry, Corporal. It won't happ-”  
“No”, he intervened harshly. “It won't. And if you steal books about the geography of the ocean and the world beyond the walls next time, I advise you to run faster than I throw knives. Got it?”  
“Y-yes, Corporal Ackermann.” he shuddered as he thought about it.  
“Tch, c'mon, brat. Stop stuttering and kindly sit down, you're going to fall over, like you're shivering. Tomorrow you'll run 70 rounds, this before breakfast. I expect you at dawn at the recreation ground.” He seated next to him and reached him a teacup.  
“Thank your very much.” Carefully he took a sip and made thereupon a face.  
“Bitter, huh?”, he mocked and glanced at him amused.  
“Kind of.” Eren put down the cup.  
“You get used to it.” He crossed his legs and leaned back. “I didn't like the taste at first, either.”

~ ° ~

“As some of you already know, I'm your new professor for this semester”, he started rattling off the usual phrases at the beginning of every new semester. “I expect discipline; everything else is up to you.” By now some were pricking up their ears. “Last but not least, my name is Mister Professor Doctor Ackermann, to make it exact. Let's scratch the whole gibberish in the middle and leave it at Mister Ackermann. Well, let's begin.”  
Ackermann, he thought. Ackermann. Damn, he knew this face too. It's been a while …  
Two crossed wings flashed in front of his inner eye.

“Armin. Armin!” As fast as he could he walked across the hallway and squeezed through small groups of other students. “Wait”, he puffed out of breath and lied a hand on the blonde's shoulder.  
“What's the matter?”, laughed the guy.  
“Not here. Let's go to the room, I need a break.” He adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I have a very strange feeling.”  
Armin was getting even more jittery. He couldn't stand it for another five minutes – they crossed the residential tract – as he blurted out: “C'mon, please tell me.”  
Eren collected the right words together. “I … have told you about that reincarnation story. You know, Titans …”  
“Yeah, I know, humanity's last hope.” his best friend performed a theatrical gesture before unlocking the door to the brunette's room. He himself stayed with his grandfather in town.  
“Mh … and Levi was corporal”, he continued hesitantly.   
Armin smirked mischievously. He knew the whole, albeit quiet short, story of the secret affair to the last detail. “And?”, he drawled and raised an eyebrow.  
“Unit commander Levi Ackermann.” Frustrated he slumped onto the bed and sighed.  
“Yes? …” Suddenly the blonde got it. “Don't you say – No, or? Don't tell me now, that-”  
“Yes.” Eren groaned load and sank completely into the sheet. “He's my new professor.”  
“Alas, poor you”, he grinned.  
The other spit out an incomprehensible curse into the pillow, then he pelt him with it. “Man, do you even have an idea how shitty this is going to be for me?”  
“Horrifying, you won't pass your semester, if you always have to imagine how you take your prof.”  
The green-blue eyes narrowed threateningly. “You're a real teaser today, aren't you?”  
“Well! What should I say then?” Armin plumped down beside him on the mattress. Again the brunette sighed sullenly. They were silent for a moment. “Do you think, he remembers?”  
“Well … it's unlikely. Nobody else can, either”  
“Where should this lead to?”

The night sky was almost cloudless. Uncountable stars shone down brightly and clearly on the ever-so-small planet. He shivered. Ice cold, piercing air pulled and tugged at the thin fabric of his shirt. The curtain fluttered unsteadily up and down before the open window. With empty eyes he starred past the frame, past the building walls, past the houses. His gaze stuck somewhere at a distant light at the firmament. The cold took away the pain for a moment. The pain in the body as well as the pain in the heart. For four years he hadn't dreamed of these terrible scenarios, and tonight they overtook him once again. He saw him dying once more. This bloodbath. He still believed to see his blood on his hands. To hold the limp body in his arms, so fragile, the raven black hair blood stained.  
He gagged and stumbled in the bathroom, sat down on the toilet lid and took a deep breath. Shivering, he washed his face. An ashen face glanced towards him in the mirror, so much older than himself. He seemed ill. He switched off the light and walked over to the window. He didn't want to see himself. Didn't want to be able to see this suffering. Solely the feeling was bad enough. With cold fingers slid over the scar on his leg, he felt the metal underneath the skin, underneath the muscles. The hand glided higher, over the scars on his abdomen, delicate and thin, almost like scratches. Four and a half fingers stroked down his left upper arm and clasped the stump at the initial joint. Lost in thought, he felt the bone under the scarred skin. Hot tears ran down his cheeks and a quiet sob shocked the mighty shape in moonlit.


End file.
